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Fire, fire

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Fire, fire | story.one

You meet them when you’re trying to meet no one; when you’re trying to birth yourself again. A newborn rising out of the dark womb of broken words and feelings, broken promises. Skin raw, heart pulsing, eyes searching blindly for the switch to turn your soul back on.

They flip it on, so suddenly, so lightly that you don’t recognise that you chose it, allowed it. You’ll look back and wonder how you let it happen. You knew. You knew.

You’ll give them your time, your precious time. Let them under your skin, allow them space in your mind as the connection begins to grow like the flickering dawn. Energy, words, music, laughter…the sparks you’d forgotten that connect and light souls. Feelings dance like warm rain, the always-surprise that someone hears you, sees you, that they're like you.

Conversation without stutter, time and moments spinning faster than you can hold on to them.

You are brave, braver still; you push through the fear. You embrace the burning sun and the wolf moon, the raging tide and the calm, still surface. You drink in the energy, the rarity of this beautiful damn thing and believe it .

Your soul breaks the surface, ripples dancing in the light. You throw your demons to the shore, mocking them as you pass, embracing everything you dared to be, to want. Baring skin, baring truth, baring your soul like a chasm of fire.

Then thunder, as quiet and sudden as it first came, but then louder. A tidalwave of hurt; meanings confused and lost in the storm. An avalanche of silence, frozen words locked behind a sheet of ice. You speak but only your reflection speaks back. Thoughts echo around the chamber, mocking you, unheard; broken sentences stuttering, repeating.

The cliches rain around you, words strewn across the floor like feathers from battle. You meant nothing. You were used.

You curse yourself for believing their truth, for believing the fire in their soul matched yours. You curse yourself for still believing it, as the messages fall to the past and the silences grow longer.

You curse yourself for still seeing the flicker in the heart of the ice; the tiniest blue flame, hiding in fear that anyone might dare to help it burn brighter.

You are fire. You will always burn.

© _RubyTuesday_ 2022-07-19

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